Goodbye, Moonman.
Hey. It's me. Moonman.
Listen, it's been real. I thwarted plans. I told you about ancestors. I feel like we got a real bond going, you and I, reader.
But my planet's kind of in shambles right now, it's getting hit by meteors as we speak. And... Well. That kind of means it's curtains for your old buddy pre-scratch Karkat.
So I figure, while Armageddon is raining down... I can tell you the tale of the last Ancestor.
Me.
Meenah Piexes wasn't the first wiggler that the Grand-Matron dragged to the moon, you see.
I was the first.
Back when I was first born, ages ago, the Grand-Matron took a liking to me. She kept me for herself and didn't want me to be culled by the empress. She knew I'd just be some highblood's shitty servant, all because of my candy-red blood. So she sought refuge for me, on the moon. The Empress never missed one stray wiggler.
The Grand-Matron turned me over to Professor Scratch to raise me right.
And for a while, it was fine. Everything went well.
Until I started seeing visions.
I saw visions of a future beyond that which Scratch could see, and when I asked about them, she just brushed me off.
After all, someone omnipotent doesn't want to be told they don't have all the facts. Scratch always was self-conscious about how she wasn't COMPLETELY omnipotent, even now.
Every night, I dreamed of him. Karkat. A troll raised on a different world, a world I had to bring into being. I saw visions of a world with a bright blue sky, of sgrub, of my alternate future...
I knew it was my mission, a mission etched in my Blood, to bring it into being.
Scratch didn't like that.
She locked me in the manor, and I was only able to escape after I became an adult. I burned swaths of the jungle and they saw it on Alternia.
The Piilot and his team came down to rescue me, eventually. I was out of Scratch's clutches.
From there, I just had to make sure the world would be ready for the Twelve Saviors. I mingled with their ancestors and spoke prophecy to them, getting everything set up and ready.
I thought my work would be done after that. But it wasn't.
I should have died decades ago, with the rest of the ancestors, but I couldn't. The Empress was always interested in my powers.
She mistook them as the power to see the future, so she extended my life so I could tell her things. She plucked me from the care of Vriska and put me in her court.
A mutantblood, culled by the Empress herself.
Eventually, she had me put away in a tower in her palace. I wasn't very... Cooperative? I kind of have a problem with authority, if you haven't already picked that little nugget up.
Anyway, I'm still in that tower. Typing away on this computer.
Typing to you.
For I have yet to finish my final mission, dear reader.
Imparting this tale on to you.
But this tower isn't long for the world. I can feel it shaking beneath me. My work is almost finished. Like Scratch said... One chapter more.
Then she and I can both die.
It's been nice to spend this time with you. I hope you enjoyed my story. It's far from over, but my account ends soon- Whoever picks up my tale for me, I appreciate it. I won't be gone long, after all, you'll see me again with a different face.
GOODBYE.
Pictured: The Moonman on Beforus Past, busking.
Text: "I am from the moon. Give me money."